


Hello Darkness, My Old (Boy)Friend

by GwiYeoWeo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel!Ignis, Ardyn is... Ardyn, Demon!Ardyn, M/M, Romantic Fluff, ignis is not happy, just a sprinkle of angst, noctis deserves his cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwiYeoWeo/pseuds/GwiYeoWeo
Summary: “My good Scientia, let us try to be civil about this — I'd rather you not burn my favorite scarf.”This wasn't how he expected their reunion, and he really would have liked to hear Ardyn's explanation for his ill-timed two-year disappearance. But Noctis was also a bit bitter at the demon's lack of tact, so if Ignis wanted to let off some steam and take his frustrations out on Ardyn, then that was quite fine too. He only hoped they wouldn't take too long. It was already getting lonely.Sometimes it’s difficult having two guardians bonded to your soul — especially when they come from rival factions. Ignis stays by his right, Ardyn at his left, with Noctis the metaphorical and literal wall keeping them from tearing each others’ wings off.But with Ardyn’s return after his two-year disappearance, Ignis is determined to light up the demon with holy fire and righteous judgment.





	Hello Darkness, My Old (Boy)Friend

Ignis was seething.

He paced around the room — twelve steps forward, a quick turn, twelve steps back — as his shoes threatened to burn a track into the floor. Noctis thought there really would be a trail singed into the carpet, unless Ignis calmed down enough before he accidentally called forth holy fire in all his fury, setting fire to not only his furniture but also his Justice Monster figurines. He really liked his figurines.

“The nerve of him! The audacity! After two years of absolutely _nothing,_ this is how he comes back? As the Chancellor of your nation's enemy?” Ignis hissed, throwing his hands into the air. White embers flicked off his fingers, sparking in the air but fading before they could hit the carpet.

“I'm sure there's a reason.”

At the foot of his bed, Noctis lounged on his stomach, his elbows propped up on a pillow as he tapped away on his phone — glancing up much too often to make sure his curtains didn't catch fire. In contrast to Ignis’ fit of rage, the prince was content to play away on King's Knight with apparent indifference. Or at least, that's the facade he was trying to keep up. His own stomach was a gnarled mess, and it wasn't only because Ignis kept far too true to his name, a walking fire hazard ready to combust and take everything within a fifty meter radius with him. "Besides, he's here for a peace treaty, for y'know. Peace."

“And a damn good reason it'll be or I will _burn_ his entire collection of rags he calls his wardrobe and everything he loves,” he promised, stopping only to turn and point his finger at Noctis. The utter look of retribution, Noctis knew, wasn't aimed at him but at Ardyn.

“He loves me.” It's a matter of fact all three of them know, even if Ignis was starting to doubt Ardyn's side of things, and Noctis peeked through the dark of his fringes to look up at him, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Are you going to set me on fire too?”

Ignis huffed and rolled his eyes, his ire temporarily subdued as he relented to Noctis. “You very well know what I mean,” he sighed. “I'd never hurt you, dear heart.”

“I know.” Noctis patted at the empty space beside him. “Sit down, just watching you stomp around makes me tired, and I don't want to explain to the maids why the carpet's all charred.”

Ignis obeyed, settling down the flames of his temper lest the bed catch on fire, and unceremoniously dropped himself beside Noctis, the bed dipping at the added weight. He ran a hand through those black silky locks, nestling his fingers into his skull and gently massaging, and pressed a chaste kiss to Noctis’ temple, voice soft and sympathetic as he murmured, “I know you're at least a bit upset as well. You can't hide it.”

And that, combined with the risk of Ignis burning down his room, had made the knot in Noctis' stomach. But it hit like a punch in the gut when the angel voiced it, the careful gentleness in his tone more like the slow peeling of a bandaid held down with super glue.

Noctis swallowed the hurt that rose up in his throat, letting his phone fall out of his hands to bury his face into the blanket. Ignis’ lingering touch in his hair was a small comfort, but it didn't ease the ache in his chest. His angel sensed it, could literally feel the tangle of sorrow yet relief in his messy swamp of emotions, and Noctis could feel Ignis prodding at the invisible bond that they shared. Noctis, in turn, reached out to that tether, and a wave of comfort raced toward him in a flood of unconditional love. Times like these made him truly appreciate these soul bonds, allowing them to express things that words could never do, or when Noctis was too stubborn to voice his troubles out loud.

Or to confirm that his other bonded was still alive and well, when he had decided to just disappear on Noctis for apparently no rhyme or reason. Or to make sure his guardian demon still loved him and didn't ditch him to return back to the Astralsphere because he got tired of Noct's brattiness. Or to learn that Ardyn held eyes and a dead blackened heart only for Noctis and that he's trying to finish his business as fast as he could to return to his little prince's side.

It hadn't been those exact words — they exchanged emotions and concepts in the place of language in that soul plane — but that had been the general message. And it was precisely why Ardyn currently held the top spot on Ignis’ shit list right now, when usually he held 5th place.

Because, instead of sending some vague concepts across Noctis’ bond, Ardyn could have at least used his few brain cells to oh, perhaps sit down with the poor boy and actually talk through whatever foolish plan he had in that empty space of his. But no, Ignis figured that would have been too much to ask! So naturally, Ardyn would just _completely_ ghost their darling prince, without ever saying a single word of warning, for over two damn years. Because yes, that is precisely what a guardian who's bonded in both heart and soul to Noctis should do, especially since it would bring about unimaginable distress to the very one they so loved.

And to top it all off, Ardyn had the gall to saunter into the Citadel this morning, announcing himself as a diplomat for the very kingdom Lucis was at war with — all as if everything was right as gentle rain. He had only glanced at Noctis, sparing him nary a thought as he gave some grandiose speech. Ignis hadn't heard any of it, too infuriated at Ardyn but more concerned over Noctis. But his charge, much to his credit, had kept most of his composure, holding tightly to the neutral expression he regarded the entire Niflheim convoy with. But Ignis had known that expression, that mask he's seen too many times be pulled out to cover and hide the splinters of his dear prince's heart.

Even Regis, having met both his son's guardians, had barely held back the incredulity that threatened to surface. He had looked ready to riot, if the stiff knuckles that kept him from launching himself off the throne meant anything.

Ignis hadn’t missed the little details, however; he’d known what to look for, how Noctis’ breathing became _too_ even and steady, the tight clench of a stiff jaw, the sudden rigidity in his spine, the nails that bit into his own left palm. And underneath it all, Ignis had felt the storm of grief and betrayal swirling into a veritable maelstrom that could impress even Leviathan and Ramuh, all coiled into a gnarled knot in Noctis’ heart. It had  taken him _everything_ to not cause a scene, because while he and Ardyn certainly have their differences, this whole fiasco was just on a different level from their regular petty squabbles.

So yes, Ardyn was an absolute genius. At being a fuckwit.

Ignis wanted to say he didn't understand how or why Noctis was so willing to forgive, but he couldn't deny it. He understood far too well and despite the grievances, he somehow felt relief upon having Ardyn again. Because not only did Noctis share a bond with Ignis, he shared one with Ardyn.

Ignis knew from experience just how much love Noctis regarded him with, could always feel it within the soul bond they shared; and as much as he hated the demon, he knew Noctis held nothing less for Ardyn either.

“It’s fine,” Noctis muttered, a poor attempt at a lie.

“No, it is not.”

And it wouldn’t be until Ardyn brought his sorry ass in here to explain himself. Ignis had half a mind to just stalk down the halls and find the man himself, to grab him by those ridiculous scarves and ruffles at his neck and drag him through the corridors and throw him at Noctis’ feet, regardless if they were in public or not. The only thing really stopping him from going was his concern for Noctis. His prince, despite his brave front, was _not_ in a good headspace right now.

So of course, Ardyn's timing would be absolutely impeccable. As always.

Noctis snapped his head to the twin doors, heavy ornate things trimmed with gold, though the gleam and shine was swallowed by the inky darkness seeping through the cracks and keyholes. A black smoke wafted through the crevices, coiling and crawling through the air and carpet, bringing with it the unmistakable odor of sulfur and ancient fire.

Ignis’ eyes dilated, nostrils flared, and it took all his willpower to reign in his instincts that screamed and snapped at him to _prepare, defend, attack._ His senses were sent on high alert, warning sirens bellowing at him to take Noctis and flee or to strike the vile thing before it could get the chance, to burn it with white fire and holy light. He barely managed to swat his righteous fury and divine flames down, but his wings itched so terribly at his back, beckoning to breach into the physical plane and drape themselves over Noctis to shield and protect.

He knew, as well as he knew his bond and love for his prince, that this demon posed no danger. His mind knew, his heart knew. But the memories and duties etched into his body forgot. It had been so long, that he grew accustomed to the _lack_ of company, that all the time and familiarity spent with the accompanying demon fell to the wayside. Two years wasn't long in the grand scheme of things, not for beings such as himself, but it was enough for old instincts to return, to forget that Ardyn wasn't an enemy but an… insufferable ally.

They watched as the dark tendrils coiled and gathered into themselves, climbing higher into the air as they took on the shapes of arms and legs and that gaudy overcoat. Wisps of auburn hair fell over his face, and golden eyes gleamed through the darkness that spread into skin and a wicked smile.

“Noctis, my dear, oh so good to see you again.”

Ardyn brandished his hat and bowed his head, flourishing a hand to the side in his typical dramatic fashion. With that infuriating grin Ignis so despised, he raised his eyes toward Noctis, as well as an extended hand.

But before Noctis could even think to take it, Ignis was upon the demon with all the same divine wrath he took upon the war fields. Lapels tearing underneath his white-knuckled fists, Ignis drew them face to face and bared his teeth, a man ready to absolutely _destroy_ if Ardyn dared answer wrongly.

 _“Explain.”_ Ignis hissed, embers threatening to turn into flames. Ardyn's lapels were already beginning to smoke.

Ardyn, unsurprisingly, looked rather peachy. His grin didn’t falter, but he tuned it down into a patient smile, as his eyes set amicably upon the furious angel even as he threatened to burn him alive. He only appeared mildly perturbed about his singed coat, the promise of holy retribution a mild inconvenience at best, and he spared a slow glance at Noctis before returning his gaze back to Ignis.

“My good Scientia, let us try to be civil about this — I'd rather you not burn my favorite scarf.”

And that, a wrong answer.

Ignis shimmered in a light of gold and silver, dragging out Ardyn's own crimson and obsidian, before forcing them out of the physical plane. His downy wings flared for just a moment, clashing against the demon’s leathery pair, and the two blinked out of reality in a flash of magic.

Noctis didn't even have the opportunity to have his say in any of it, and he could only watch as Ignis pulled Ardyn and himself into the Astralsphere to duke it out there, instead of turning Noctis’ room into armageddon. He wouldn't have to tug on the threads of his bonds to know what sort of chaos their conflicting powers must be blending up. He could picture a clash of black and white flames filling the void of their plane, with Ignis raining down holy judgment and Ardyn dancing around like it was all a mere game of tag.

This wasn't how he expected their reunion, and he really would have liked to hear Ardyn's explanation for his ill-timed two-year disappearance. But Noctis was also a bit bitter at the demon's lack of tact, so if Ignis wanted to let off some steam and take his frustrations out on Ardyn, then that was quite fine too. He only hoped they wouldn't take too long. It was already getting lonely.

  


 

“And you couldn't tell us this _prior_ to your disappearance because?” Ignis kept his arms crossed, looking every inch of a dove whose feathers were ruffled. There’s some soot on his cheek, the cuffs of his once meticulous suit singed black and torn. His hair lost its usual styling, the gel not enough to hold through whatever chaos it had to endure. Noctis rather liked it down.

Ardyn didn’t fare better, who sat on his knees and kept his hands in his lap before Ignis and Noctis, like a brat being lectured for some playground bullying. He lost one of his scarves and a layer of clothing, his vest a frazzled mess with the buttons missing. One of his sleeves looked close to falling off, the burnt threads barely keeping the seams together., and his ratty hat had certainly seen better days. He scratched his sparse beard with one finger, turning his eyes upward. “Short notice, no time to be had.”

Ignis was just about to go for another tussle, when Noctis managed to hold him back and saved Ardyn’s face from a white-knuckled punch.

“Okay, okay, time out! We’re using words this round, okay? _Words._ ” Noctis pulled at Ignis’ arm and shuffled him back a few extra steps. He looked to Ardyn and waited for an affirmation; when the demon nodded in compliance, he turned to Ignis who only stared back with a disgusted look on his face. Noctis, though, didn’t relent and stared back harder, setting his eyebrows in a stony gaze and his lips in a firm line. “ _Ignis._ ”

Ignis could be a child sometimes with that stubborn streak of his, but ultimately, he’d always say yes to Noctis. “…Fine.”

Noctis thanked him with a soft kiss to his jaw, successfully cooling the angel’s simmering ire by a few degrees, and turned to sit on the floor with Ardyn, sitting just across from him. “Alright, so take it from the top one more time. You know I have no idea what you guys say when you poof out of reality.”

He may be more generous and patient than Ignis — and hold actual love for him while the angel barely had the tolerance — but he was still upset. Ardyn’s shoddy explanation didn’t help with his mood or loosen that dagger of betrayal wedged in his side, even if he knew full well the demon had only his best interests in mind. But while he had absolute trust and faith in Ardyn, seeing him waltz into the audience chamber as the fucking Chancellor of Niflheim, the empire that had almost managed to _kill_ the Prince when he was only a child, did not appeal to his logic.

"Well, for starters, we all know your lovely kingdom has been at war with Niflheim for the past… However many decades." Ardyn made a gesture in the air.

"Ah, yes. Start off with a riveting little prologue, why don’t you?" Ignis struck in, his patience running on fumes now. "Now on with it."

Noctis shot a look at the angel. " _Ignis._ "

"I'm using words. You told me to use words, and I am using them."

Noctis rolled his eyes; Ignis was technically right but _still._ He allowed him his loophole and turned his attention back to Ardyn. "Okay, and?"

"And you know what my role is, what I must do as your guardian demon."

Noctis nodded.

Demons were still demons, guardian or not. They handled the nefarious aspects of life, worked hand in hand with sins and sinners, walked beside destruction and crawled the earth like vipers. They were everything the old scrolls described them to be: cruel, cunning, and always looking for a poor soul to drag down. Some looked hideous, their skin and bones a mirror to their blackened hearts, others looked like art come to life — to tempt, to beguile. (Ignis would spit out how Ardyn needed to “put his face on” every morning, else there would be black slime oozing out of every orifice.)

But in the case of a guardian, in the case of _Ardyn,_ it meant he wasn’t restricted to the goody two-shoes book of moral conduct that restricted Ignis. He could get his hands dirty and black and dip into the most unsavory tactics Ignis would never be allowed, all in the name of protecting his chosen — Noctis, his heart of hearts. He was the serpent that lashed its fangs and venom, the undying roach that creeped in the darkest cracks, the bloody hound that crushed limbs and tore flesh asunder.

The man willing to play diplomat for the enemy kingdom just so he could break it down from the inside, to never let it harm another hair on his beloved prince ever again, so he explained.

Noctis and Ignis stared at each other, their own faces reflecting each other’s thoughts of ‘What The Fuck Ardyn.’ Ignis, at least, no longer held the flames of anger in his chest, cooled down to smoldering embers now that they got a proper explanation. It… made sense, sort of. Ignis, by the sole virtue of what he is, could never play into deceptive tactics. Ardyn was free of the shackles that limited his counterpart, and he made use of that.

“You had Scientia here to keep you safe and warm within his soft downy wings.” Ardyn said, flicking off some ashes off his shoulders. “I was more than confident he’d mind you while I wormed my way into Iedolas’ good graces.”

Ignis slipped off his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Still, you —”

“Asshole!”

Noctis reached over to his bed and shucked a pillow at Ardyn, hitting him squarely in the face and knocking his hat down with it. The demon looked as if it did more damage than any of the flaming daggers made, and Ignis was sure he landed one straight in Ardyn’s right arse. He crossed his arms in smug satisfaction, drinking up the man’s expression of ‘did he really do that noctis please why.’

“You couldn’t have said _something_ before you decided to vanish like that?” Noctis didn’t snarl, but his tone and voice pierced harder than any furious scream could. There was something heated in the center, with its edges tipped with sharpened ice, and he made sure to drive it home.

“Now princeling, I did say it was imperative.” Ardyn held both his hands in the air, as if placating a wild beast turning its fangs on him. Noctis could be terrifying when his rage got the best of him, rivaling the flames of both guardians put together. “Wouldn’t want them firing the weapon that blasts your father’s Wall down, do we? Right? Scientia, do work with me here.”

“Five seconds, Ardyn.” Noctis dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He looked ready to tear his own hair out. “You could have spared five seconds to say ‘Hey, I’m gonna make sure Niflheim doesn’t invade your country anymore, so toodles’ or something.”

Ignis cleared his throat, staring pointedly at them but ignoring Ardyn’s plea for help. “He does have a point. At the very least, a sticky note could have been something.”

"Cursed traitor, I’ll pluck your dainty feathers out like a chickatrice for hell’s oven,” Ardyn murmured. He’d rather pour a cup of holy water over himself than bear the brunt of Noctis’ ire any longer, however. It stung to hear his tone and see how cross he was, but he could feel the line in his soul burning from Noct’s end. Ardyn understood the reason behind the anger and distress, why Noctis felt torn between his fit of being left in the dark and his relief of finally having Ardyn returned to his side. He accepted his shortcomings, really.

“Noctis, precious boy, do forgive me.” He reached to brush tentative fingers against Noctis’ cheek, giving him the chance to pull away and brush off his hand should the prince so choose. Or bite him, whichever. But he only leaned into the touch, even pressing his hand over Ardyn’s to splay the full palm of his hand against skin.

“Just say something the next time you pull that sort of stunt. Please?” Noctis sounded incredibly weary then, laying everything out in one single exhale.

Ardyn knew this wouldn’t be the end of it, that there would be more to come later. But for now, they both wanted to just sweep it under the rug and salvage what should have been a happy, tear-jerking reunion. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said, pulling Noctis to his chest.

Noctis sniffed, then sneezed straight onto Ardyn’s burnt vest.

“Ah, sorry again. Forgot about the soot.”

  


 

“That was still a dick move,” Noctis grumbled, hiding his face behind his fringes. But despite Ardyn’s idiocy and the near fallout, he’s relieved to finally have him at his side.

The soul bond had barely been enough to quell his anxieties, the only thing keeping himself together being Ignis’ gentle reassurances and Ardyn’s warm tugs sent across their link. It didn’t make up for the lost time and space between them, when the demon would have always been hovering by his shoulder — just out of sight from the humans but within Noctis’ reach — so he’s making Ardyn repay his debts as he spoke. Noctis looked up, from where he perched himself in between Ardyn’s legs and pressed his own back against the demon’s chest.

As if the physical contact could somehow fill in for the two years’ time he’s gone without.

“So I’ve been reminded for the sixth time.” Ardyn lightly kissed the crown of Noctis’ head and laced his fingers atop the boy’s lap, essentially locking the prince within his hold. “I _am_ sorry, princeling. I didn’t think you’d be so lonely, especially with Scientia still at your side.”

“You are an utter fool, Ardyn,” Ignis cut in, from where he worked in the kitchenette, and pointed the business end of a fruit knife at him.“You know how anxious he can be. Imagine how he had been when he thought you left for good.”

"Oh, you foolish thing," Ardyn sighed, peppering kisses along Noctis' shoulder. "I'd never give you up for even a thousand damned souls."

Noctis whined deep in his throat, conflicted between drinking up the comforts and fighting off the embarrassment that came with the onslaught of affection. He wiggled in Ardyn's hold, mumbling between his breaths, and buried his face into his hands. "Just, just shut up and keep cuddling."

Ardyn did just that, zipping his mouth closed and gently laying his chin on the boy’s head. Noctis reached a hand over the couch cushions, grabbing the remote then flipping through the channels to some food channel, and tucked himself just so until he found that perfect spot.

“Ardyn, care for some strawberries?” Ignis called out, already preparing a separate bowl.  

“Absolutely.”

It’s funny, Noctis thought, how they always managed to just _settle._ Especially Ignis and Ardyn, being enemies by instinct and creation, yet they found moments to silently draw their truces and put away their flames and weapons, falling into domesticity whenever and wherever their prince was involved. He missed this, all of this. And he’d never voice it aloud, but he had begun to miss their constant bickering, their grumblings and hisses filling in the cracks of silence. No doubt that would all come later, probably after Noctis fell asleep, tucked between the weight of both their bodies and protective wings.

“… Can I get whipped cream on mine?” Noctis piped up.

“Of course, love.”

But for now, he’d allow himself to just _be,_ with Ardyn at his back and holding him within his arms, and Ignis plopping himself right beside them, handing each of them a bowl of fruit to nibble on. The baking competition on TV was an afterthought, something to settle his gaze on while he relaxed in the comforting presence of both his guardians. He’s not sure if he could ever deal with another separation like that ever again, didn’t even dare to think of the possibility, but all he wanted right now was to enjoy having his family back together again — with Ignis holding his right hand, and Ardyn’s chin settled on his left shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/


End file.
